Layover
by Shelbecat
Summary: A chance meeting in an airport lounge leads to much more than a one night stand.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: A chance meeting in an airport lounge leads to much more than a one night stand.

**Layover  
Chapter 1**

The slim blonde swept into the airport lounge, pausing in the doorway to skim her eyes across the crowded room.  Heads scattered amongst the din of holiday travelers turned towards her, the shift in power tangible as she assessed their worth.  She smiled as she watched them ogle.

The bartender, who'd seen her trick too many times to slip under its spell, pushed a Whiskey Sour across the bar towards a waiting customer.  Looking up, he shook his head as the man fell prey to her licentious aura and tipped back precariously on his stool.

"Whoa there partner," he warned, knowing first-hand how many men she had thieved away to her hotel room.  "Just keep your eyes on the bar, trust it's a safer bet."

Glancing back at the bartender with crimson cheeks, the delayed passenger made a quick appraisal of the ring adorning his left hand before smiling slightly.  "Yeah, guess she's out of my league, hey?" he offered as he tipped his glass to his mouth.

"Pal, you ain't even in the same sport."

Laughing appreciatively, he still turned his head to watch as she concluded her inspection of the teeming tables and pulled her suitcase behind her towards the bar.  The teaser of thigh that slipped from behind her slit skirt as she slipped onto the stool sent him chasing his first mouthful with the full glass and turning away to grab his own bag.

"Think I'll find a cold shower," he muttered, tossing a twenty to cover his tab towards the grinning bartender as he hurried away.

"Good plan, my man, good plan."  Running his hand along the polished serving surface, the bartender worked his way towards the newly occupied stool.  "So how's the Aspirin lady?" he asked, grinning at the woman who was attempting to skewer her Palm Pilot with its stylus.

She looked up expectantly, smiling as she pushed a strip of cornflower locks behind her shoulder.  "Not the Aspirin lady anymore, I just left Bayer today."

"What?" he gasped, pressing a hand to his heart as he leaned heavily against the counter.  "No more weekly visits, say it isn't so!"

Laughing, she glanced quickly down at the mini-computer in her hand before shooting him a warm smile.  "No worries, I'll still be here every Friday.  I signed on with Pfizer to handle their Canadian Sales.  Fly in Monday morning, out again on Friday."

"Lordie, how do you do it?"

"Please, half the people in here haven't seen their kids since Sunday," she said lightly, her eyes flitting across the unfamiliar faces crowding the room.  "It's life on the road."

"It's life in airport lounges."

"That too."

Letting her gaze linger on his for another moment, she dropped her eyes to the screen of information scrolling between her fingers.

"So, the usual?" he asked as her attention slipped back into the electronic world.

"What?" she asked absently as she processed the displayed information.

_DE534 Charlotte DELAYED  
AC819 Chicago DELAYED  
AA601 Cleveland DELAYED  
AC922 Dallas DELAYED_

"Shit."

"Oh what now, couldn't beat the high score?"

"Funny.  No, I'm delayed… everything's delayed.  Damn it!  I am not dressed for this weather," she claimed, gesturing to the slim black business suit crowding her breasts.  "Have you been outside?  It's like 20 below nothing!"

"Easy darlin', we'll get that chill out of your bones.  You just need one of Will's Winter Wonders."  
  


"I don't know what the hell that is but it sounds amazing."

Teeth sparkling as she shot him one of her patented 'sure to sell when you never even thought you were buying' smiles, she punched off the Palm and slipped it back into her purse.

He turned to select the requisite bottle from the selection against the mirrored back wall, his eyes seeking out her reflection without hesitation.  Smiling at her confidence, he watched as she tossed her head and turned to glance around the bar, the full mane of whip straight hair careening dangerously down her back.  Eyes widening as she settled back into her stool, he knew his mouth must be hanging open as she popped the buttons on her jacket.  When she pulled it open to reveal a red, lace-trimmed camisole emphasizing her complete lack of self-consciousness as well as her sizable assets, he fumbled the bottle and had to chase it across the bar.

"Trouble?" she queried teasingly, tugging the sides of her top down as milky whiteness peaked out shyly.

She laughed as his cheeks filled in with crimson.

"No trouble.  Slippery little bastard though."

"I can see."

"But good," he stated, turning to place the shot of Goldschlager on the bar.

"I think it's customary for the payee to be the judge, no?"  Glancing down at the clear liquid with 24 karat gold flecks swimming about a trio of ice cubes, she wrinkled her nose briefly then pulled the glass up to her lips.

Closing her eyes as she let a slow sip slip between her lips, she smiled at the first taste.  "Mmm, it is good, and…" Eyes widening as she stared first down at the glass in her hand then up at the wrinkled eyes of her benefactor.  "And hot!" she finished, her slim tongue darting out to rescue a lingering drop from her cinnamon tainted lips.

"Winter Wonder," Will said cheerily, slipping a menu up on the counter beside her glass.  "Take it nice and slow, you'll be warm in no time."

"Warm!  I'll be toasted!" she called as he slipped away to serve another customer.  Shaking her head, she attempted another sip of the fire-tinged liqueur, forcing herself to agree that the opposition of blistering cinnamon against frosted ice made for a palatable experience.

Drumming her manicured nails against the gold tasseled menu, she perused the mix of pricey items with detachment, unsure of how long she'd have to wait and doubting that she wanted to spend her Friday night on a bar stool.

"There has to be _something_ good on there."

Flipping her hair past her shoulder, she turned to see a worn, brown leather jacket ease onto the stool beside her.  His head was bowed, a shock of loose chocolate waves sweeping over his face.  Her first thought was that he was too lazy for regular hair cuts; then he raised his head.

Eyes as deep as the amber stone her mother always wore on an heirloom necklace bored into hers without reservation.  His jaw was firm, yet friendly and she smiled as she saw his unruly hair complemented the bad boy look to perfection.

He was staring at her; she realized this after a moment, refusing to blush as she raked her eyes down across his chest before flicking them towards the menu and back.  "There's always _something_ worth buying," she said huskily.

The innuendo took him hard and off guard and he pursed his lips to keep a smirk off his face.  Emeralds danced in place of her eyes and he found himself tilting towards them before shaking off the heady pull of her beauty.

"Michael," he said quickly, holding out a hand to pierce the thickness between them.  "Michael Guerin."

"Maria Deluca," she returned, inserting her slim hand into his burly hold smoothly.

Shaking, their eyes remained locked on the other's, the din of the surrounding customers swirling about them like a hurricane until it was only them left in the eye, a deafening silence all they could hear.

"A drink sir?"

Hands dropped from their intertwinement, two bodies repelling back into their own occupancy until just the memory of their immediate connection was left in the space between.

"Can I suggest a draft beverage, we have Leffe Blond, Amsterdam Nut Brown…"

"Corona," Michael said suddenly, twisting his head to eye the man who dared to break the spell she'd cast.  "With lime."

"Corona," Will repeated, his eyes darting between his favored client and this new intrusion at his bar.

"And something for my friend here?" he added, turning to catch Maria's gaze once more.  "Another?"

"Oh no, this is enough, I…"  She smiled as she watched his eyes crinkle in interest and twirled the glass in her hold.  "Gin and tonic," she relented.  "With lime."

"Gotcha," Will said tersely, pushing back from the bar forcefully.

Michael ground his teeth as he watched the bartender skulk away, the undertones of jealousy obvious in the darkened room.  He knew too well what it was like to desire someone from afar; someone in your life but not.  Smiling at the heady feeling of not being on the other side of the bar this night, he turned back to his new companion and resumed staring.

Polished nails fingered the edge of her glass, chipping away at the unbreakable surface with incessant tapping.  Light filtering from a brass overhang emphasized her profile softly.  She looked very much the impatient angel and he smiled as he realized he was already in bed with her.

"So you're flying?"

She took another sip of the burning beverage before turning her head slowly towards him.  "Well I didn't come here to pick up a guy."

"No?  How about a man?"

Eyes widening against her struggle not to show a reaction, she accepted the challenge and nodded imperceptibly.  Tipping her focus back to her drink, she raised it to her lips before pausing and whispering over the rim, "How long before your flight?"

Weight shifting in his seat, he ran a slick palm along his jeans.  "Not sure, yours?"

"I'll check."

Whipping the Palm Pilot out of her purse, she bit her lip to keep her hands steady as she tapped the requisite areas to bring up a flight status report.

_AC819 __Chicago__ CANCELLED_

"I've got a few minutes," she said lightly.  "Flight number?"

"922 to Dallas."

_AC922 __Dallas__ CANCELLED_

"I think you better get a hotel room."

He gulped as he listened to her bold proposition, nearly blushing himself when he realized her words could carry a totally different meaning.  "Storm called the flight?"

"Nothing's taking off."

"So I guess we're stuck."

"Looks like."

His heart begged to escape his chest and he had to take a slow breath to keep from taking her right there on the stool.

She watched his mannerisms cautiously, eyes flicking from face to hands as she felt herself fall into the spiral of his world.  She couldn't believe she was actually contemplating her next words.

"Drinks."

Heads snapping as if to flee their necks, the pair who were already in a nameless hotel room together realized once again that they were not alone in this world.

Will pushed the requested beverages across the mahogany surface, his gaze lingering on Maria's before she blushed and ducked away from his judgment.

"How much?" Michael asked, warily watching the unspoken admonishment between bartender and patron.  "Hey," he said loudly, reaching out to tap Will's arm with his wallet.  "How much for the drinks?"

"What, oh… $11.50."

Pulling a twenty from his wallet, Michael tossed it onto the bar.  "Keep the change."

Standing, he pushed away and reached down to lift a sports bag onto his shoulder.  Stuffing his wallet into his pocket, he held out his free hand for hers before smiling slightly.  "Think we can get the same drinks from room service?"

Blinking from the abruptness of his offer, she swallowed thickly when she realized she had been ready to make a similar suggestion. "I've got the company Platinum," she replied, some of the earlier confidence returning to her voice as she ignored Will and turned her focus directly on Michael.

"Maybe we can find a place with caviar," he teased, eyes sparkling as he challenged her to accept.

"Sounds perfect."

Standing to join him, she ignored his hand and reached for her own suitcase.  He intervened, clasping his left hand around the handle and reaching out for her with his right.  She paused and dropped her eyes to his offering, taking his hand feeling like an impassible barrier she could never return from.

Then she smiled and reached out, her perfectly manicured nails disappearing inside his grasp as they left the bar together.

Behind the mahogany Will slammed his fist against the counter, Michael's untouched Corona tipping backwards to wash over his crisply pressed pants.

~*~*~*~*~*~

_Hands.__  Arms.  Lips.  Faces.  Him._

Maria rolled backwards against the sheets, panting as the fire he started swelled within her depths.

_Legs.__  Hips.  Hair.  Eyes.  Her._

Michael groaned as she snaked her nails along his back, calling every desire he'd ever hidden crashing to the surface.

_Strangers.__  Chance.  Lovers.  Wrong.  Perfect._

Each paused as the other stared into their soul, eyes seeking out permission to exist in the space they held sacred.  Requests received and granted without questioning, the storm swept them along its churning surface.  Powerless to fight its pull, they relinquished themselves to its superiority.

She moaned.

He panted.

She nodded.

He hurried.

She screamed.

He smiled.

Spent, the sea found no further use for the lifeless bodies, tossing them against the mattress in a tangle of limbs and liquid.

"That…"  Tongue darting out to lick her parched lips, she failed and tried again.  "That was…"

"Yeah," he mumbled, dropping back against the sheets as she slithered into place against his chest.

"Do you have to go?"

"Not until that little computer says so."

"We should still call."

"Yeah."

Pushing against his chest with her hand, she whined as she closed her eyes and settled deeply into him.  "You should call."

He smiled as he ran a hand along her shoulder.  "I will."

Feeling the chill of sweat cooling against her skin, he moved gingerly away from her to reach for the blankets.  Realizing they were lying atop them, he stood up and tugged on the blankets covering the second bed; the one no one would sleep in tonight.

"Mmm, Michael," she murmured, smiling as the first blanket fell against her skin.  "Since you're up…"

Just about to sit back on the bed, he turned and smiled down at her sleep-cast face.  "Yeah," he whispered.

"Order Chinese."  Opening her lids, he rediscovered the precious gems she'd used to lure him and nodded.

"With egg rolls."

His heart constricting in his chest, he surprised himself by how comfortable he felt in bowing to her demands.  Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers.  "Chinese with egg rolls coming up."

"Thanks," she mumbled as her eyes fluttered closed.

"And Michael?" she breathed softly.

He stopped halfway across the room.

Slipping under the wave of sleep, her voice faded with her last words.  "Tell them not to skimp on the shr…"

Michael smiled as he grabbed his boxers from the floor and eyed the large rip she'd torn in the waistband.  Slipping into the useless garment, he picked up the phone and dialed 0 for room service.  He had just had sex with a complete stranger and she was willing to pay for the shrimp.  He was a goner.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The scent of her permeated his pores, sinking in and taking up residence in the place he never let anyone approach.  Smiling against an exterior that rarely saw joy, Michael rolled over in the bed he'd shared with an angel and opened his eyes.  Evidence of her was everywhere; the discarded take-out boxes telling of her voracious appetite, and ability to go straight again afterwards, the red camisole that she'd covered herself with to sleep, as if modesty had any place between them by then.  He shook his head as he stood from the bed and reached out to finger the red silk she'd left behind.  Realization that it was the only thing of hers remaining in the room hit him hard and fast.

Cursing beneath his breath as he crumpled the silk in his fist, he tossed it against the bed and ran a restless hand through his already wild hair.  What had he expected?  To wake up and find her running a bath for them to share?

Against his better judgment, he walked to the bathroom adjoining their room and pushed open the door.  It was vacant, of course it was vacant, he'd known it would be and as he felt the loss of her for the second time he cursed again.

"Damn."

He tried to laugh at himself as he stepped back into the hotel room and took a hard look around.  Scattered clothing littered the furniture, his jeans over the back of a chair, his boots separated in opposing corners of the room.  He couldn't remember being so anxious to get undressed, but then he supposed she just had that affect on him.  Still, kicking off Doc Martens without untying the laces?  That was hardly like him, and… was that his leather jacket tossed over the lamp?

Walking over to rescue the heated leather, a new smell wafted through the chilling room—the musky odor of sweat and sex confirming a union born solely of passion.  A fling, a one-night stand, a meaningless romp, call it what you wanted, it all amounted to one thing—he'd picked up a girl in a bar and fucked her.

Looking down at his tattered underwear barely hanging onto one hip, he grimaced as he realized that it was actually her who had fucked him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Here you are Mr. Guerin.  You'll be boarding at Gate 126 at nine o'clock."

Thanking the attendant as she pushed his new ticket across the counter, Michael painted a smile on his face as he groaned inwardly and turned away to find his departure gate.  Last night he'd been on a direct flight to Dallas, all set to land at eight, be home by nine, and have the better part of a six-pack polished off before eleven.  Now it was a day later and he was on the 9:25 to Dallas via Chicago, adding three hours to his trip and immeasurable annoyance to his already stressed temper.

The past two weeks had been spent on the road, scouting basketball players at Canadian universities before they broke for Christmas.  His job description meant he didn't have to impress any of his clients; they had to impress him, at least the ones that weren't obvious followers to Michael Jordan's legacy.  The result was a complete absence of alone time while he was wined, dined, and very often nearly bribed to write a player's name down in the little black book he would carry back to his boss at the Dallas Mavericks.  The immeasurable success of Steve Nash for their team meant that the Canadian boys always thought they had a better chance with him and it was up to Michael to burst their greed-filled bubbles.

The entire experience left him feeling like he'd received a mental blow-job with every meeting, then he'd capped off the perfect trip with a very real one in the Sheraton Toronto Hotel.  She was by far the best new player he'd come across in his travels but he wasn't naïve enough to believe she was ready to sign on with him full-time.

Running a hand through his hair, he shifted his bag against his shoulder and walked towards the hanging flat-screen monitors displaying the status of all flights.  He was just wondering if he had to look for a flight destined for Chicago or Dallas when the tingle of laughter wafted into his ear and he stopped.

She was standing before the screens, an absent hand flipping her hair in a gesture he'd already grown fond of.  Pausing for a moment, he smiled as he moved to approach her, reaching into his pocket to grasp the reminder she'd left in his room.  He was no more than twenty feet away when he saw her first glance up at the screen, then down at her ticket, and finally turn into the waiting arms of another man.

Oblivious to her observer, Maria checked her newly issued ticket against the overhead screen displaying flight departures.

_AC874 __Chicago__09:25__ Gate 126_

Finding her flight, she repeated the information she sought beneath her breath.  "Gate 126, gate 126, gate 126…"

"Hey darlin', you afraid you gonna get lost or something?"

Turning, she looked up in surprise as a man's voice interrupted her.  She grinned when she recognized him, throwing her arms around his neck without hesitation.

"Will!"

"Aspirin lady."

"I told you not to call me that."

"And I told you not to call me Will."

Blushing, she bowed her head as she shrank away from him.  "Are we back to real names now?"

"I don't know; did everything work out last night?"

Her lip flipped beneath her top teeth, the light chewing giving away her immediate nervousness.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching a hand out to caress her face.  "It's okay, really.  This is what I wanted, right?"

She smiled as she nodded and looked up at him through tear-glazed eyes.  "You aren't mad?"

"How could I ever be mad?"

"Thank you," she murmured, closing her eyes as she waited for him to accept her back into his life.

Flooded with nothing but pride for the woman before him, Will leaned in to capture her mouth with his.  He knew she never would have picked up that guy last night if he hadn't encouraged her; but it was the right thing to do, and he was glad she'd decided to go through with it.  Besides, that Guerin character wasn't half bad looking anyway, maybe it would all turn out okay in the end.

Across the airport, Michael stopped mid-stride as he saw her lock lips with the bartender from the night before.  Eyes tightening as he watched her complete lack of objection to the amorous advances, he gripped his bag and turned away from the violent scene.  His stomach lurched as he realized she was only hours out of his bed and already readying for another quick lay.  Shaking his head at how stupid he'd been to believe she actually felt for him, he pushed his body towards the security gate, intent on not spoiling her traitorous moment.

Breaking the kiss, Maria felt a slight chill course through her body, causing her to shiver as she glanced around the crowded concourse.

"What is it?" the man in her arms asked lightly.

"Nothing," she said absently, seeing no one she recognized in the faceless mass.  Turning back, she pushed the haunting thought of someone watching her aside and leaned closer against the chest of her companion.  "Think I can have my ring back now?"

"Of course babe," he replied quickly as he reached into his pocket.  Pulling out a small ring box, he opened it to reveal a matched set of wedding and engagement rings.  His left hand flipped over unconsciously as he extracted them, revealing the same white gold band encircling his own finger as he slipped her rings back into their rightful place.

Running his thumb over the symbol of his rightful ownership of the woman in his arms, Will grinned and pulled her hand into his.  "How does it feel to be Mrs. William Darden again?"

"Call me Mrs. Billy Darden, baby; it has a better ring."

Smiling at her husband, she let him grab the handle of her suitcase as they walked hand in hand towards gate 126.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael plunked his bag down on an empty waiting room seat and slammed his body into the neighboring chair.  The seemingly soft blue padding that cushioned the seating device was deceptively thin and he swore as solid steel jarred his bones.

Restless as he leaned back against the hard support, he threw his body forward again to rest elbows on knees before moving back again to swing one foot up on his other leg.  He only had 20 minutes to waste before he would board his plane yet the relief of flying away from the disaster zone was little comfort as his mind insisted on replaying the sight of her throwing herself at the enemy.

Running a rough thumb across his eyes to physically force the sight away, he paused with his hand forcing darkness on his world to drift even further into the clutches of her memory.  The vision of her moaning his name as her back arched from the bed and she scratched her claim onto his shoulders was indelibly printed on his brain and he knew no amount of force would erase the experience.

Especially not when he still saw it with eyes open.

Blinking as he removed his hand to see her standing before him, he used both fists to scratch at the taunting until he was sure he'd won out and opened his eyes cautiously.

No… still there.

Shifting lower in his seat, he watched as she held the bastard's hand and pranced towards the departure gate.  Eyes he wished he still controlled followed her suicidally, stopping only when he saw her point at the screen, then back at her ticket and turn to smile at the man beside her.

She was getting on this plane.

She was getting on his plane.

What was that he said about being a goner?

Sinking lower behind his bag, he watched for a moment longer as the filthy scumbag nuzzled her neck then sat her in a waiting chair and headed off towards what Michael hoped was a sheer cliff drop off.  Will was no more than ten feet away when he bounded to his feet and headed towards her.

"Thought you weren't given to PDAs?" he said softly as he took an empty seat beside her.

"Wha… Michael!" she hissed, shifting her eyes to follow her husband as he strolled into the crowd.  "What are you doing here?"

"Me?  Oh I thought I'd catch a show before my flight.  You should see it, it's called 'The Art of Picking Up an Idiot' starring Maria Deluca.  She's really good, might get the Oscar."

"Stop it," Maria snapped quickly, ensuring that Billy was concealed by the waiting passengers before she gave Michael her complete attention.  "What did you expect me to do, stay for breakfast?"

"I expected you to say goodbye," he answered truthfully, staring down at the icy clump gracing her finger.  He would bet money that she hadn't worn that particular accessory last night.

"I did say goodbye," she murmured, turning to sit back against her seat.  "You just weren't awake."

"I would have got up for you."

"Yeah, and I would have stayed all morning if you did.  It's better this way."

"Why?"

She sighed.  "You know why?"

"Because of him?  The fucking… bartender?"

"That fucking bartender is my husband Michael, or haven't you noticed."

"Oh I noticed alright, the rock on your finger was a little small but I managed to find it."

"Nice.  Your maturity astounds me."

"Come off it.  You think it's mature to fuck me and then run back to him?  How can you even stomach it?"

"Because I don't have a choice," she said softly as she closed her eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," he replied, leaning over to whisper in her ear as she clenched her eyes tighter.  "There's always a choice."

Maria pressed her lips together as a sob she thought she'd successfully banned threatened to swell from her depths.  Shaking her head slightly as she weighed the thought of her husband off scouring the airport lounge against the heady scent of her newfound lover beside her, she wondered how she ever thought the choice had to be hard and swallowed heavily.

"Maybe I just needed a little push to make it."

Opening her eyes, she peeked slowly to her side, expecting Michael to take some joy in her declaration.  Instead she frowned as she saw only an empty chair by her side, the leather-clad man she'd sealed her fate with swallowed up by the crowd pressing ever closer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Maria idly flipped the pages of her Cosmo as she watched a flight attendant push the drink cart down the aisle.  Miniature bottles of gin, vodka, and rum clinked together maddeningly, the tingles whetting her appetite as her nerves bundled tighter together.  Sighing as she tossed the magazine onto her serving table, she resorted to sounding out an unknown beat with her fingernails while she waited.

In the seat next to her, Billy shifted and she froze.

It would not do to wake him up.

Entwining her fingers together, she left five red crescents against the back of each hand as she silenced herself.

"May I offer you a beverage?"

The voice was soft, pleasant but Maria heard only relief and waved a ten dollar bill in the woman's face.

"Gin and Tonic, Budweiser."

Frowning as she saw the flight attendant accept the bill haughtily, Maria relented somewhat and forced a smile onto her face.  "I've been waiting for that since last night, always tastes better on the way home."

The other woman smiled in return, popping the top on a fresh can of Tonic Water as she prepared the drinks.  "You were delayed yesterday?"

"Yeah, I guess a lot of people were."

"Mm-hmm, quite an inconvenience."

"Oh yes," Maria said quickly, reaching to accept her drink as she pondered the woman's words.  "Actually, I guess it wasn't so bad," she added as she took the opened beer can.  "Gave me time to… figure out a few things."

Maria smiled as she sat back in her seat, raising the icy gin to her lips slowly.

"Sounds like a night in a hotel was just what you needed."

She nearly choked as the flight attendant passed her by.

Turning to ensure that her husband was still sleeping soundly against the window, Maria lifted the two drinks she had just purchased and rose against the lowered tray.  Slipping out as the tray dropped back into place, she smiled as Billy snuggled deeper into the empty air and emitted a loud snore.

Balancing herself between the rows of seats as a light turbulence shook the plane, she moved up the aisle towards the first-class cabin.  She paused at the curtain separating the wealthy from the 'not-so-much', then slipped behind it when she saw no one was looking.

'Act like you belong,' she chanted internally, moving purposefully up the aisle until she saw her goal and slid into the empty seat beside him.

"They don't carry Corona on short-haul flights."

Michael looked up as a voice interrupted his most important sulking over the Globe and Mail Sports page.  The paper slid to the floor as he silently waited for her to explain her renewed interest in him.

"Uh," Maria started, faltering before she realized that she never expected this to be easy and placing the Budweiser on his tray.  "I figured Bud was a good choice for you, cool, crisp, ruggedly handsome."

"You think Bud is ruggedly handsome?"

Michael pinched his lips as he realized she'd broken his resolve in under five seconds.

"I think someone is," she said as she dropped her voice to its most provocative octave.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" he hissed, regaining control as he grasped the beer tightly and raised it to his lips.

"I thought we could talk," she said lightly, leaning back in her new seat to take another sip of her drink.

"I think I had just about all the talking I can take for one day."

"Come off it, you didn't give me a chance."

"I also didn't lead you back to your husband's arms this morning, you did that all by yourself."

"I thought I was clear that we only had one night."

"Oh, you were perfectly clear on the length of our relationship, you just failed to mention the blatantly traitorous aspect."

"Michael…"

"Fuck it," he snapped, raising his drink to slam his tray into the upright position.  "If you'll excuse me…" he prodded, turning in his seat to stand as Maria instinctively moved out of his way.

He moved passed her in a flurry of rough denim against nylon-sheathed legs, the friction sizzling across her knees as she experienced just the briefest touch of him again.  She watched for a moment as he stormed up the aisle towards the cabin area, smiling when he jerked open the door to the washroom.

She was up and out of her seat before he was fully inside.

Pausing to glance around at the unaware passengers, she took a moment to sip her drink as if waiting for the lavatory to become vacant, then pulled open the door to enter.

Michael was leaning over the sink with his head bowed between his shoulders.

"Hey," she said softly as she pulled the door shut and slipped the lock to 'Occupied'.

"What took you so long?" he rasped as he turned to detach the drink from her hands.

A mixture of gin and beer painted the undersized sink as two bodies melded in the space hardly meant for one.  Their hands raced to be the first to undress the other, his shirt falling first victim as her fingers danced across the buttons.  Her jacket was next, the clasps breaking open to reveal only a lacy bra beneath, the accompanying garment still nestled in his jacket pocket, a souvenir of the night before.

Lips meshing as one, an instant sweat coated their bodies as sparks flashed into the surrounding air.  Michael wrapped his hands around her bottom, lifting her against him to become one in the firestorm of desire.  She rose willingly as he slammed her onto the vanity, lips chasing down her neck as she threw her head back and moaned his name.

"Michael… oh Michael!"

Her voice stoked the fire higher, lapping at his last resolve as he kneaded her breasts beneath his thumbs.  Fighting off the blaze that signaled only destruction for the second-choice man, he bowed his head atop hers in sorrowful defeat.  Then her eyes flitted open and he submitted to her inferno.

Whimpering against his shoulder, she locked a finger in her mouth to keep quiet as she accepted her membership into the 'Mile High Club'.

Still smoldering from the trail of flames he'd drawn across her chest, Maria pulled back a moment later to seek out his eyes.

He resisted, pushing his face further into the mercy of her hair before sighing against the gentle prodding of her fingers and pushing back to meet her gaze.  A shock of deep chocolate locks fell across his eyes, hiding them from her examination.

"I suppose you have to go?" he asked gruffly, glad that she couldn't see his full expression.

Soundless, she reached out to trail her finger across his forehead, pushing back the veil of hair to reveal soulful eyes brimming with anticipation.

"I do," she whispered softly.

He shook his head as he ached for her to say she didn't and accepted that he'd always known she would.  "Well then," he offered coolly, pushing back even as she reached to grab him closer.  "I guess you should go."

"Michael…"

"Don't.  I knew what this was when we started, it's fine."  He ran a hand through his already wild hair as he successfully moved away from her.  The new space between them equaling only a hair's breadth in the shrunken space, he shifted as he felt her eyes reach out to pull him in again, shaking his head as he fought to resist.

"Go, be with him."

Shamed, Maria bowed her head as she slipped to the floor, her body pressing against his as she reached a hand towards the door.  She hesitated before opening it, flicking her eyes back up to his face.  "You know this was more than a one night stand, right?"

Michael didn't move, he couldn't.  He knew all too well what _this could turn into and he wasn't about to let himself believe that it was what she wanted __or needed._

"I think your husband's waiting."

Reaching up to place a soft hand along his cheek, she pulled him towards her slowly as their lips met in a whispering kiss.

"I think you've been waiting a lot longer than him," she murmured against his mouth, breaking free to turn away from him.  Opening the door before he could even move in protest, she slipped free of the cocoon, flipping her hair past her shoulder one more time as Michael watched her disappear.

Shifting his eyes to stare into the mirror, he imagined her still sitting on the vanity, calling to him with implicit want that he felt so assuredly.  He slammed his hand against the counter as her absence laughed in his face.

In the aisle outside, Maria stopped to straighten her skirt as a flight attendant gave her a cursory glance and smiled knowingly.  She blushed as she buttoned her jacket and looked up to find Billy.

She froze when she saw him right in front of her.

Horrified, she watched as he fought off a flight attendant who'd obviously seen him enter from the lower-priced cabin.

"Easy now darlin'!  I just want to take a quick peek to see if my little lady wandered up there.  I won't be disturbing your passengers… hey baby!"

Billy looked up to see Maria standing just outside the washroom door and successfully shrugged clear of the flight attendant.

"There you are.  What are you doing way up here?"

"I, uh…" Maria stammered.  "The bathrooms were all taken and I really had to go."  She smiled sweetly as she leaned in to peck his cheek.  "We should go sit," she urged.

"Sure, sure," Billy said distractedly, letting his eyes drift around the spacious cabin as he took in what first class living felt like.  He was just thinking it might actually be worth the extra cost when the door opening behind Maria caught his attention and he looked up.

Maria watched, frozen as his eyes flicked to the man doubtlessly standing behind her and then back to her face.  Realization dawned crisp and violent as his lip curled back and he clenched his hand quickly into a fist.

She closed her eyes as he spoke.

"What the fuck is going on?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The air at 30,000 feet was charged, sparks cracking in the thin space between the warring factions.  Michael looked up as the gruff voice of the man he wished he knew only as the bartender broke into his thoughts.  For an instant he wondered how much of a beating he could lay out before the midget fought back, then Billy scraped his foot along the ground like a bull and Michael smiled at the thought of watching him charge.

Before her husband had a chance to make an even bigger ass of himself, Maria stepped forward to place her hands on his shoulders, Michael frowning as he saw his opportunity for victory fading.

"Babe, I was just talking to him, making sure he understood, you know?"

"Understood, what?  That you're my wife."  Billy snapped the words towards Michael, leering at the taller man as he awaited a reaction.

"Oh, I'm supposed to be surprised?" Michael said quickly, pointing to his chest as Billy faltered in his threatening gaze.  "Sorry dude, I knew she was hitched."

"You…" Billy flicked his eyes back to Maria.  "You told him?"

"No baby, no," she soothed, secretly cursing Michael for prodding his anger.  "I…" she grinned as she thought of a way to calm him completely.  "I just couldn't help it, you know?  When it happened, yours was the only name on my lips."

Michael thought he was going to throw up. 

"Really?" Billy asked, his face softening as he stared at his wife.

"Really," she cooed, stroking his cheek with her hand.

"Really!" Michael growled, moving to slide past the scene of sickly sweetness.

Billy instinctively moved to block his path, puffing his chest as he stretched up to full height.

Michael stopped, stared, then glanced at Maria.

"Is he fucking serious?"

She winced as she realized this wasn't going to go smoothly.

"Hey!" Billy challenged, jabbing his finger into Michael's ribs when he dared to address his wife.  "You don't get to talk to her anymore buddy.  You have something to say, you say it to me."

"Something to say?  How about 'Any man that would pimp his wife out at an airport bar, doesn't get to protect her from the big bad man that boned her'?  That good?"

"Don't you talk about my wife that way," Billy growled, advancing upon Michael.

Michael resisted the urge to flatten him in front of Maria.  "Whoa little man, wouldn't want to strain yourself there."

"Stop it, both of you, stop it now!"

Maria stepped between the two just as a flight attendant rounded the corner and saw the three of them standing together.

"Is there something I can help you…"

"Line-up," Maria said quickly, gesturing towards the bathroom over Michael's shoulder.  "We're just figuring out who has to go the most."

The flight attendant nodded slowly as she stepped away, then turned to shoot a peculiar glance at the trio.

"Good save, Sparky here was about to break his leash."

"God damn it, who the fuck do you think you are?" Billy asked fiercely.

Michael cocked his head to one side.  "I'm that man that gave her what you couldn't."

Maria closed her eyes as Billy exploded.

"You told him _that_?"

She swallowed thickly as she wondered how long she had left before they landed.

"Sweetie," she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his furor head on.  "I just thought it would be best if he understood, you know?  If he knew _why we had to do this."_

"He didn't have to know I… that I…"

"That Billy and the boys lost _the boys?  Please man, it was so obvious."_

"Michael," Maria pleaded as she used physical force to restrain her irate husband.

"I can't believe you told him!" Billy grunted as he let Maria maintain the human barrier between him and his target.  Glaring at Michael while the taller man continued the light smirk of one who knew he'd hit the bull's-eye, Billy finally turned back to his wife pleadingly.  "You know I always wanted to be the one for you?  I never wanted you to have to find… to have to go through something like _that_.  It must have been awful."

"Sounded like she enjoyed herself to me."

"One more word," Maria said evenly as she whipped around to stare at Michael.

Michael pursed his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets and took up a forced casual stance against the wall.

"Babe," she continued, turning back to Billy whose suddenly crimson complexion startled her.  "Just calm down, okay?"

She rubbed her hand quickly across his chest until his gaze left its task of burning holes into Michael's head and drifted back to her.

"Let me explain," she said softly.  "I went with Michael last night just like we planned.  In and out of the hotel room, no attachment, no hurt feelings.  But then…" she shrugged and turned to shoot a longing glance over her shoulder.

Billy's cough sent her careening around again.  "Uh… well," she said lamely.  "Then I felt sort of bad, you know?  So I… well I spent the night."

"You… did… what?" he ground out, smoke rising in furious puffs from his ears as his blood steamed past the boiling point.

Michael stiffened against the wall as he watched Maria tread into danger.

"I was just trying to do what you wanted," she hurried.  "Pick up a guy, fuck him, get pregnant.  It was all for you baby."

"You weren't supposed to stay over."

She blushed.  "He was so comfortable to sleep on.  And after the second time…"

"You did it twice!" he shouted, dropping his voice to a whisper as a nearby passenger coughed loudly to signal his presence.  "Twice?"

"Honey, it was just to make sure, you know?  Just in case the first time didn't take.  And you know… well…" she bowed her head away from him shyly.  "Well I kind of liked it," she admitted.

Billy grabbed fistfuls of hair, turning around to pace a few steps up the hallway before whirling back to face her again.  "I… you… I…" he sputtered.

"Oh baby," she cooed.  "I know it's got to be hard, but you know how long it's been and well… well sweetie, I mean you should have seen it.  It was just so big!"

Maria's eyes bulged into saucers on her face as Billy's heart threatened to drum its way through his ribs.  Behind them, Michael swallowed a smug smile.

"I can't, I can't," he repeated, turning to his left, then right as his hands pulled helplessly at his shirt and he struggled to process the blatant disregard his supposedly faithful wife had demonstrated.  His gaze raked over Maria, onto Michael, and returned before flying back to the instigator of this whole betrayal.

"You," he spat as he pushed past his wife and advanced on her lover.  "You did this."

Michael raised himself up to full height and stared with disinterest at Billy's finger poking his chest.

"You made her sleep with you, you with your leather jacket and your…" his eyes wandered down to Michael's midsection as his speech halted.  "Your hair," Billy finally finished, dragging his gaze back up across the muscled chest.

Michael's lip twitched as he accepted the veiled compliment.

"Don't you fucking smile at me," Billy threatened, his finger drilling into Michael's ribs persistently.  "And don't you even _think about smiling at her.  You did your duty; your services are no longer required."_

Michael looked past the irate man to where Maria stood just out of his reach.  Biting back a reply was just beyond his means and he saw her nod imperceptibly as he threw acid on Billy's wounds.

Bending over, he leaned close to the shorter man's ear.  "My _services_ pleased the lady, you'd do well to take notes."

He never saw Billy's fist flying toward his face.  His nose exploded in a shower of blood as the world before him was lost behind a crimson curtain.  Reeling from the blow, Michael pulled back in immediate defense, holding a hand to his face as he peered through blood-washed eyes to find his attacker.  All he saw was a concerned Maria looking up at him.

"Are you okay?  Jesus, did he hurt you?"

"Where…" Michael looked around to find his payback target.

"Out cold," she replied, accepting a towel from the flight attendant crowding around them and holding it up to Michael.  "Here… pressure."

"Out?  Did I hit him that hard?"

"Oh babe, you didn't hit him," she said softly, smiling as she cleared his face of blood and saw the amber tones of his eyes peeking out at her.  "This nice man took care of him."

Michael was finally able to pick out Billy's body, sprawled on the floor of the cabin, a rather hefty crew-cut pinning his arms to his back.

"What?" Michael mumbled, wincing as he wiped the back of his hand across his face.

"This man… um, excuse me sir?" Maria asked, watching as he encased Billy's wrists in handcuffs.  "Are you like a cop or something?"

"Air Marshall, ma'am.  Saw him attack this gentleman here, figured it was cause to step in.  We'll have him formally arrested when we land in Chicago, that's if you want to press charges," he offered to Michael.

"Ye…" he stopped as he looked to Maria for affirmation.  "Whatever you want."

Maria stood to wipe another smear of blood from Michael's face.  She shrugged, "I don't know.  I think he suffered enough for one day.  Humiliated by his wife, arrested on an airplane… maybe we should just let him sleep this one off."

Michael was silent as he searched her eyes for her true intention.  After last night, and then today, she was still cowing to Billy?

"I thought you wanted out of this."

"My marriage?"

His lips pursed as he worked his jaw.

"Michael," she sighed.

"Fuck it," he hissed.

"Michael no, listen to me."

"I think I've done enough listening, Maria."  His voice was too loud and the Air Marshall cleared his throat as he tried to ignore their fighting.

Michael shook his head as he dropped his voice to a murmur.  "You gave me every indication that he made you miserable.  Now you want to go off with him?  Try to work this mess out?  Be my guest, there's no broken heart here."

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you want.  You're going with him, I'm going to Dallas."  His eyes blinked quickly and when she looked again she saw that he'd retreated, blocked any chance of true emotion from shining through.

She dropped her eyes, the cloth stained with his blood tightly wound around her fingers.  Turning, she tossed it into a trash can and wiped her hands pointlessly on her skirt.  One last look at Billy and she knew she couldn't leave him alone in some jail while she committed adultery all across the country.

"I can't just come with you," she said tersely, reaching for his arm as she pleaded with him to listen.  "Things are not that simple, I'm _married to him."_

"I am fully aware of your marital status."

"Michael…"

"No, look," he said, shrugging out of her grip.  "I knew you were married before I even slept with you, if I expected it to be over this easy then I'm a bigger idiot than I thought."

"You are not an idiot," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes.

"I'm not?"  His voice was cold, the message that he most certainly was vehemently clear.

He turned to move away from her and she grabbed after him once again.

"Don't leave it like this, please?" she begged.

"I'm not the one leaving it like anything."

"Excuse me sir," the Air Marshall interrupted their good-bye as he pulled a still sleeping Billy into a vacant seat and turned to Michael.  "I'm going to need to take a statement… when you're done."

"I'm done now."

Ignoring Maria, Michael tried to pull his arm from her grasp.  She dug her nails in, yanking him back against her body as she stretched up to whisper in his ear.  "Go to Dallas.  Maybe…" she stepped in front of him and shrugged as she silently said her final goodbye.  "Maybe someday I'll get there too."

"Don't make me any promises."

His voice curt, Michael stepped past the Air Marshall who was busy talking to the flight attendant.  He turned into his seat and dropped heavily against the cushion, closing his eyes before he had to watch her pass him.  The soft swish of her skirt against her legs nearly sent him up and chasing her down the aisle but he remained seated, confident he could be stronger than the lure of her body.

The short wait until they landed was filled with filing a report against Billy and declining the option to press charges.  It burned him deeper that he hadn't even had time to throw a return punch but his revenge wouldn't be had through the Chicago court system.  He'd grant her that one last wish.

When they finally landed, the plane taxied towards the terminal and then stopped just shy of the arrival gate.  A frozen lever was the cause and the disembarking passengers bundled into their coats for a frigid walk across the snow covered tarmac.  Michael tried to stop himself from watching, but the sound of a newly conscious Billy protesting his incarceration was difficult to resist.  He watched as the Air Marshall tugged Billy's T-Shirt clad body down the stairs, pushing him unceremoniously into a waiting police car.  A smile of satisfaction painted his face until he saw the next passenger exit and it dissolved into a grimace.

The sprinkle of snow filtered towards her body, settling in her hair as she pulled her thin jacket tighter around her.  Shoes meant only for the inside of a conference room slipped their way down the stairs and he tensed as he watched her almost lose her footing.  Finally, she was at the bottom and approaching the police car when she turned and cast a shaded glance back at the plane.

She couldn't see him, he knew he was safe from her glances but he shrunk back anyway, uncertain if he was ready to see her.

With a last look longingly up at the cabin where she was sure the better option lay, Maria turned and climbed into the car with her husband; ever the dutiful wife, resolved to see him through one more marital trial.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Maria sunk into the bubble-filled sanctuary of the porcelain bathtub.  The scent of cranberries settled into her skin, the implied richness massaging her senses as she let her eyes drift close.  She always loved the intense flavors the Christmas season heralded, surrounding herself with cranberry, cinnamon, and pine for the entire month of December.

Smiling as her body slipped on the slick surface, she drew a soaking foot along her leg, the noticeably cooler air chilling her skin before she ducked back beneath the water.

"Hun," she called through the open bathroom door.  "Think you can make me some tea?"

She added just the right amount of pleading to her voice, knowing before she spoke that he'd say yes even if she requested fresh tea leaves from the market on the corner.

"Sure babe, chamomile?"

"Earl Grey.  Thank you sweetie."

Sighing, she settled back against the inflatable pillow supporting her head.  The manicure she'd so perfectly preserved for this weekend peeked out of the sudsy water, the soft light catching on the deep maroon surfaces.  Memories she thought were long suppressed sprung to the surface with the gesture, bringing a smile to her face as she recalled the events leading them to the life they now cherished.

"Babe?"

She waited for his mumbled response before letting her mind carry her voice along the path it traversed.

"Are you glad we did it?"

"Did what?" he mumbled distractedly.

"Did this, played him?"

"Played him?  Sure, if you can call telling him our plan playing him."

"Oh come on, he didn't know the whole plan."

"Maria, you practically drew him a map of our lives.  I think he got trampled."

She laughed as she reached for a soapy sponge.  "Okay, so he got trampled.  It's not my fault he was naïve."

"Sure babe; you picked him, remember?"

"Oh yeah," she mused thoughtfully, then giggled.  "What an idiot!"

"Hey!  You slept with that idiot if I remember correctly."

"Not very many times."

"Enough," came the gruff reply.

"Stop it.  I'm not sleeping with him now, right?  All a means to an end."

"Still, you never should have slept with him at all."

"Oh, really now?" she queried, her voice rising a full octave as she protested his implications.  "And who do we have to blame that little fact on?"

"You are not pinning that whole thing on me, you had choices."

"Yeah, and a lover that pushed me into the arms of another man."

"Oh… I did not…"

"Sorry sweets!" Maria purred as she moved the sponge along her arm.  "The truth stings."

She ducked as she heard a growl echo through the room.  Laughing, she concentrated on painting her body in soap suds as she listened to him fight with the kettle.  It was strange to think of a time when her husband was willing to risk their entire relationship on the chance of a unknown future but she had to admit she was happier with him today than she ever was in the past.

"You think he'll ever forgive us for what we did?"

"Do you want forgiveness?"

"Well… it was kind of mean that it just ended like that."

"Trust me, nothing was worse than the… what was it… oh yeah, _the boys_… man that stung."

Maria clasped her hand to her mouth in a valiant effort not to laugh but it was pointless.  The giggles spilled out even as she ducked beneath the water to muffle them.

"I can hear the bubbles!" he shouted from the other room, only pushing her further into hysterics as she remembered the tragic accident that left her mate unable to perform.

Spitting water as she emerged from the suds, she wiped a mixture of water and tears from her eyes as she gasped.  "It's just… I mean, losing your testicles?"

"I can't believe you are laughing."

"What?  It's funny!"

"You are _so_ mean!"

"But you love me," she replied sweetly.  Maria smiled as she heard him grunt a response.  She knew it was tough for him to relive the day he'd very nearly lost her forever, but forcing some humor into the situation was the only way she could deal with the stress of living through it.

"Besides," she said lightly.  "It all worked out in the end, right?  A few battle scars, but otherwise…"

"Otherwise unscathed?"

"Yeah?"

She winced at his wry laugh.

"No injuries is one thing Maria.  Remembering how hard it was to win is entirely another."

"I know that," she said softly.

"I know you do, I'm just saying.  That day, waiting to see if you were still with me… I knew I was supposed to have faith, but watching you with him…"

"I know baby, but it was worth it in the end, right?  Who cares about the battle when you've got the victory?"

"The losing side?"

She hated it when he spoke the truth.  "Why do I have to keep caring about the losing side?" she moaned.

"You don't; in fact, I think I'd rather you didn't."

She smiled at his masked insecurity.

"But I can't forget that he was part of your life."

"I can."

"No you can't, just like he could never forget me."

"He didn't know about you."

"Until you told him."

She smiled as she heard the light clinking of a metal spoon against her porcelain cup.

"At least I was honest, he deserved that much."

"Still, finding out that we knew each other before you even met him?"

Maria looked up as Michael appeared in the bathroom doorway.  She shrugged as a playful smirk flitted across her face.  "So, am I supposed to tell my husband about _every_ guy I slept with in high school?"

"I thought I _was _the only guy you slept with in high school."

"Oh you were," she said, reaching a hand out for the tea he carried.  "You just weren't the one I ended up marrying."

"Not then," Michael replied, smirking as he fingered the silver band encircling his finger.

Maria smiled as she took a sip of her tea and placed the cup beside her.  She held out her hand, the matching ring on her finger shimmering from its journey through the bubbles.  Slipping into his firm hold, she winked and tugged him gently toward her.

"You know, I think there's enough room in here for two."

Looking down at his bubble-covered wife, Michael couldn't imagine hearing a better proposition from her; except perhaps for the one where she'd asked him to help her divorce her first husband a year before.

"You know," he said slowly, detaching his hand from hers as he stood in the marble-coated room.  Unbuttoning his shirt with painstaking patience, he grinned as he watched her slither beneath the water.  "I'm not sure if you ever properly thanked me for helping you out that night."

"Oh you aren't are you?"

"No, in fact, I think you owe me a thank you of… orgasmic proportions."

"Hmm," Maria murmured.  "Somehow I think that can be arranged."

Watching his shirt fall away from his muscled chest, she squirmed against the slippery surface and leaned over to rest her chin on the edge.  "You remember when I called you?"

"The call that changed my fate as a confirmed bachelor?"

"The call that changed my fate as a married woman."

"Well you're still married."

"Just to the right person this time."

"Somehow I think Billy would disagree."

Michael smiled at the grimace that clouded her face.

"Somehow I think I don't give a shit about Billy."

"Relax," he said softly, tossing his shirt on the counter before working the button on his jeans.  "I don't think Billy gives a _shit_ about us anymore either, not after what you did to him."

"Stupid ass anyway, what ever made him think that I'd agree to sleep with some stranger just to give him a baby?"

"Well you did it, didn't you?  Kinda makes it easy to believe."

"We were never supposed to sleep together and you know it," she teased, flicking a light spray of water towards his annoying still-clothed body.

"Right, like I ever thought you could resist your first love."

"Oh!  You are so full of yourself!" she cried indignantly, smiling all the while she protested.  "Just because you couldn't keep your own boys in your pants doesn't mean I would have done it with just any gu…"

Maria stopped as Michael dropped to the floor and smothered her mouth with his.

"Mmm, Michael, I…" she fought to continue her thought as his tongue danced across her teeth and she relented to allow him entry.

Moaning through his ministrations, Maria leaned out of the tub and snaked her wet hands along his bare chest.  Fighting with his zipper, she realized it was a losing battle and reached up with one hand to pull on his shoulder.

"Forget the pants," she mumbled, tugging him towards her as she leaned back into the sudsy water.  "They'll dry."

Michael yelped as she pulled him head-first into the bathtub, realizing he was powerless to deny her request as she used sexual leverage to lure him.  Hot water instantly soaked his heavy jeans as he slid atop her body, her hands still fighting with his zipper.

He let her struggle, focusing his own attention on massaging her breasts, panting against her water-soaked skin as he felt his jeans fall to his hips.

"Found what you were looking for?" he whispered, suckling her neck as she used her hands to elicit a contented moan from his lips.

"Found it and keeping it."

Maria slipped beneath the hardened body of her spouse, arousal already rippling through her core as his tongue danced across her chest.  She wordlessly begged him to continue, teasing him with her own manipulations as the fire bristled between them.

The weight of his jeans dragged him down as her persistent hands begged him to rise ever higher.  He let the feel of her guide him, pushing himself up to hover over her creamy body, grunting when she reached up to slam him down atop her.

Dancing together beneath a watery blanket, they defied the laws of physics as fuses ignited and burned between the smoldering pair.  Flames snaked their way towards the explosive climax in a ribbon of color as Maria closed her eyes and Michael could only watch mesmerized.

Red.  Green.  Silver.  Gold.

A shower of sparks rained down as their love was announced in a spray of fireworks.

Michael smiled at her throaty cries as she tossed her head back and claimed him as hers.  Heaving from the strain of not drowning them both, he pushed back reluctantly as her eyes blinked open to seek out his.

Catching his gaze as he moved to kiss her, the two lovers that would forever remember the night their fates melded stared at the new future sparking between them.

"You're happy?"

It was a question and Michael surprised even himself by asking it.

Orbs bright as Christmas lights twinkled back at him as she let a slow smile capture her face.  "You have to ask?" she whispered, stretching out to snatch another kiss from his dripping lips.

He laughed as he let her ease every fear he'd ever held secret.

Tracing his jaw with her finger, she tilted her head as she reached out to suckle his neck.

"You think we've christened every surface in this room yet?"

"I don't know, we hit the bed the first time around, the sofa might still be a little jealous."

"Mmm, coming back here was a perfect idea," she murmured.

"I thought you'd like the irony."

"You mean celebrating the anniversary of our night in the hotel room where we were never supposed to, um… consummate?"

Michael laughed as he pushed himself back onto his heels and reached a hand out to pull her up.  "We consummated a long time before that."

"Yes we did."  Maria smiled into his mouth as she stole yet another light kiss, a shiver rippling through her body with the action.  "And now I'm cold."

"Yes ma'am," Michael replied briskly, forcing himself to his feet against the pull of hopelessly heavy jeans.  "Just let me escape these chains…"

"Ooh, chains.  Maybe we should leave you in them."  There was a twinkle in her eye as she knelt in the bathtub, reaching up to wrap her slim fingers around his imprisonment.

"Oh no, not again."

"But…"  Maria pushed her bottom lip out as she frowned up at Michael.

He laughed as he pulled her up to his chest, holding onto the wall for support as he lowered her to the floor outside.  "Clothes, warmth, tea," he commanded, shooting her a stern look as she stood naked and shivering before him.

"And here I thought you had the stamina of a bull, Mr. Guerin."  The spark was back in her eyes, her challenge booming against the marble walls.

A wry groan escaped his lips as he fought to peel the soaked denim from his body, pushing her away when she approached him once more.  "Maria!  Get dressed, then we can…"

"Get naked again?"

"Then we can rest, you need it."

"Nonsense," she said lightly, finally grabbing a robe for herself and then selecting a towel to drape across Michael's shoulders.  "Besides, I can rest later, right?  In about seven months?"

Michael kicked the lingering jeans from his ankle, smiling down at his pregnant wife as he stepped out of the tub to join her.  Rubbing his hands briskly along her arms, he melted when she tipped thankful eyes towards him.

"Is it too much to say I wish I'd been with you that whole time?"

"Hmm, I think you've only told me about a million times this year, maybe once more?"

"Come here," Maria purred, pulling him down to capture his lips.  "I should've married you back then."

Michael poured himself into the kiss, groaning when she wriggled in his arms and he felt the pull of her charm encircle him once more.  "You know?  I think I'm almost glad we waited this long to be together."

"You are?" she asked softly, staring up at him with wide-eyes.

"Yeah I am."  He bent back down to caress her lips once more.  "Gave you more time to miss me."

"Oh!"  She squealed as he spun out of her arms, tugging her behind him into the hotel room.  Maria could only laugh as he pulled her down on the sofa with him, stealing her breath with his persistence.

She leaned into the embrace, enjoying every sensation of his body writhing beneath hers until emotion finally overtook her and she leaned back just slightly.  Chewing her lip, she reached up to brush stray hairs from his forehead, following the gesture with her lips before settling on his eyes.

"Thank you."  Her voice was little more than a breath and he wasn't sure he'd heard her until he saw the hint of tears moisten her eyes.

She watched his reaction to her unabashed expression, his face softening into the open-hearted man he reserved only for her.  It still struck her every day that this life wasn't real, wasn't happening.  She had run away from him after a long forgotten teen-angst argument, straight into the arms of the man that would become husband number one.  When he agreed after years of silence to help her escape, she knew she would be forever indebted.

Now, admitting reservations that she knew she never needed to, her breath caught as she waited for his response, melting into his hand as he chose actions over words.

Smoothing her face with a feather-light touch, Michael assured their fate by sealing his lips to hers.  There was no question between the pair that life had finally turned onto its destined path.  In the hotel room where they'd rekindled their love a year before, eyes blinked closed as the lost lovers relished the grace of second chances.


End file.
